MP-NRLF 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


• 


THE  NEW  DAY. 


THE  NEW  DAY 


A  POEM  IN  SONGS  AND  SONNETS 


RY 

RICHARD  WATSON  GILDER 


NEW    YORK 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG,  AND  COMPANY 
1876 


Copyright,  1875,  by 
RICHARD  WATSON  GILDER. 


RIVERSIDE,   CAMBRIDGE  : 

STEREOTYPED     AND      PRINTED      BY 
H.    O     HOUGHTON    AND   COMPANY. 


PRELUDE, 


THE  night  was  dark,  though  sometimes  a  faint 
star 

A  little  while  a  little  space  made  bright. 
The  night  was  long  and  like  an  iron  bar 
Lay  heavy  on  the  land  :  till  o'er  the  sea 
Slowly,  within  the  East,  there  grew  a  light 
Which  half  was  starlight,  and  half  seemed  to  be 
The  herald  of  a  greater.     The  pale  white 
Turned  slowly  to  pale  rose,  and  up  the  height 
Of  heaven  slowly  climbed.     The  gray  sea  grew 
Rose-colored  like  the  sky.     A  white  gull  flew 
Straight  toward  the  utmost  boundary  of  the  East 
Where  slowly  the  rose  gathered  and  increased. 
It  was  as  on  the  opening  of  a  door 
By  one  that  in  his  hand  a  lamp  doth  hold, 
Whose  flame  is  hidden  by  the  garment's  fold  — 
The  still  air  moves,  the  wide  room  is  less  dim. 


8  THE  NEW  DAY. 

More  bright  the  East  became,  the  ocean  turned 
Dark  and  more  dark  against  the  brightening  sky  — 
Sharper  against  the  sky  the  long  sea  line. 
The  hollows  of  the  breakers  on  the  shore 
Were  green  like  leaves  whereon  no  sun  doth  shine, 
Though  white  the  outer  branches  of  the  tree. 
From  rose  to  red  the  level  heaven  burned  ; 
Then  sudden,  as  if  a  sword  fell  from  on  high, 
A  blade  of  gold  flashed  on  the  horizon's  rim. 


PART    I. 


I. 

AFTER   THE   ITALIAN. 

I   KNOW  not  if  I  love  her  overmuch  ; 
But  this  I  know,  that  when  unto  her  face 

She  lifts  her  hand,  which  rests  there,  still,  a  space, 
Then  slowly  falls  —  'tis  I  who  feel  that  touch. 
And  when  she  sudden  shakes  her  head,  with  such 

A  look,  I  soon  her  secret  meaning  trace. 

So  when  she  runs  I  think  'tis  I  who  race. 
Like  a  poor  cripple  who  has  lost  his  crutch 
I  am  if  she  is  gone  ;  and  when  she  goes, 

I  know  not  why,  for  that  is  a  strange  art  — 

As  if  myself  should  from  myself  depart. 
I  know  not  if  I  love  her  more  than  those 
Her  lovers,  but  I  know  for  that  red  rose 

She  covers  in  her  hair,  I  'd  give  my  heart. 


12  THE  NEW  DAY. 


II. 
A  RIDDLE  OF  LOVERS. 

i. 

THERE  lived  a  lady  who  was  lovelier 

Than  anything  that  my  poor  skill  may  paint, 
Though  I  would  follow  round  the  world  till  faint 

I  fell,  for  just  one  little  look  at  her. 

Who  said  she  seemed  like  this  or  that  did  err  ; 
Like  her  dear  self  she  was,  alone,  —  no  taint 
From  touch  of  mortal  or  of  earth,  —  blest  saint 

Serene,  with  many  a  faithful  worshipper  ! 

There  is  no  poet's  poesy  would  not 

When  laid  against  the  whiteness  of  her  meek, 

Proud,  solemn  face  make  there  a  pitiful  blot : 
It  is  so  strange  that  I  can  never  speak 

Of  her  without  a  tear  ;  —  oh,  I  forgot ! 

This  surely  may  fall  blameless  on  her  cheek. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  13 


II. 

BUT  of  my  lady's  lovers  there  were  two 

Who  loved  her  more  than  all ;  nor  she  nor  they 

Guessed  which  of  these  loved  better,  for  one  way 
This  had  of  loving,  that  another  knew. 
One  round  her  neck  brave  arms  of  empire  threw 

And  covered  her  with  kisses  where  she  lay. 

The  other  sat  apart,  nor  did  betray 
Sweet  sorrow  at  that  sight ;  but  rather  drew 
His  pleasure  of  his  lady  through  the  soul 

And  sense  of  this  one.     So  there  truly  ran 
Two  separate  loves  through  one  embrace  ;  the  whole 

This  lady  had  of  both,  when  one  began 
To  clasp  her  close  and  win  her  to  love's  goal. 

Now  read  my  lovers'  riddle  if  you  can ! 


14  THE  NEW  DAY. 


III. 


"A  DUN,   BLEAK  STRETCH    THAT    SLANTS 
TO    THE   SALT  .SEA'S   GRAY." 

A  DUN,  bleak  stretch  that  slants  to  the  salt  sea's  gray  — 
Rock-strewn,  and  scarred   by  fire,  and  rough  with 

stubble,  — 

With  here  and  there  a.bold,  bright  touch  of  color  — 
Berries  and  yellow  leaves  —  that  make  the  dolor 
More  dolorous  still.     Above,  a  sky  of  trouble. 

But  now  a  light  is  lifted  in  the  air ; 

And  though  the  sky  is  shadowed,  fold  on  fold, 
By  clouds  that  have  the  lightnings  in  their  hold, 

That  western  gleam  makes  all  the  dim  earth  fair  — 
The  sun  shines  forth  and  the  gray  sea  is  gold. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  15 


IV. 
LOVE  IN  WONDER. 

I  SAW  a  picture  of  a  lover  wan, 

Who  stepping  from  dark  wood  doth  thrust  apart 

Strong-matted,  thorny  branches,  whose  keen  smart 
He  heeds  in  nowise,  if  he  only  can 
Win  the  red  rose  his  lady,  like  a  fan, 

Holds  daintily.     She,  listening  to  her  heart, 

Doth  look  another  way.     Now  would  she  start, 
And  weep,  and  suffer  sorrow,  if  he  ran  — 
For  utter  love  of  her  —  swift,  sobbing,  back 

Into  those  terrible  shadows,  terribler 
Because  her  whiteness  made  their  black  more  black  ! 

A  little  while  he  waits,  lest  he  should  err  ; 
A  while  he  wonders,  secretly.  —  Alack  ! 

He  could  so  gladly  die,  or  live  for  her. 


1 6  THE  NEW  DAY. 


V. 
LOVE  GROWN  BOLD. 

THIS  is  her  picture  painted  ere  mine  eyes 

Her  ever  holy  face  had  looked  upon. 

She  sitteth  in  a  silence  of  her  own  ; 
Behind  her,  on  the  ground,  a  red  rose  lies : 
Her  thinking  brow  is  bent,  nor  doth  arise 

Her  gaze  from  that  shut  book  whose  word  unknown 

Her  firm  hands  hide  from  her  ;  —  there  all  alone 
She  sitteth  in  thought-trouble,  maidenwise. 
And  now  her  lover  waiting  wondereth 

Whether  the  joy  of  all  joys  draweth  near : 
Shall  his  brave  fingers  like  a  tender  breath 

That  shut  book  open  for  her,  wide  and  clear  ? 
From  him  who  her  sweet  shadow  worshippeth 

Now  will  she  take  the  rose,  and  hold  it  dear  ? 


INTERLUDE. 


THE  sun  rose  swift  and  sent  a  golden  gleam 
Across  the  moving  waters  to  the  land  ; 
Then  for  a  certain  while  it  seemed  to  stand 
In  a  clear  place,  midway  'twixt  sea  and  cloud  ; 
Whence  rising  swift  again  it  passed  behind 
Full  many  a  long  and  narrow  cloud-wrought  beam 
Encased  in  gold  unearthly,  that  was  mined 
From  out  the  hollow  caverns  of  the  wind. 
These  first  revealed  its  face  and  next  did  shroud, 
While  still  the  daylight  grew,  and  joy  thereby 
Lit  all  the  windy  stretches  of  the  sky : 

Until  a  shadow  darkened  from  the  east 
And  sprang  upon  the  ocean  like  a  beast. 


PART  II. 


THERE  was  a  field  green  and  fragrant  with  grass 
and  flowers,  and  flooded  with  light  from  the  sun, 
and  the  air  of  it  throbbed  with  the  songs  of  birds.  It 
was  yet  morning  when  a  great  darkness  came,  and  fire 
followed  lightning  over  the  face  of  it,  and  the  singing 
birds  fell  dead  upon  the  blackened  grass.  The  thun- 
der and  the  flame  passed,  but  it  was  still  dark,  —  till 
a  ray  of  light  touched  the  field's  edge  and  grew,  little 
by  little.  Then  one  who  listened  heard  —  not  the 
song  of  birds  again,  but  the  flutter  of  broken  wings. 


24  THE  NEW  DAY. 


II. 

THE  DARK  ROOM, 
i. 

A  MAIDEN  sought  her  love  in  a  dark  room,  — 
So 'early  had  she  yearned  from  yearning  sleep, 
So  hard  it  was  from  her  true  love  to  keep,  — 

And  blind  she  went  through  that  all-silent  gloom, 

Like  one  who  wanders  weeping  in  a  tomb. 
Heavy  her  heart,  but  her  light  ringers  leap 
With  restless  grasp  and  question  in  that  deep 

Unanswering  void.     Now  when  a  hand  did  loom 
At  last,  how  swift  her  warm  impassioned  face 

Pressed  'gainst  the  black  and  solemn-yielding  air,    • 
As  near  more  near  she  groped  to  that  bright  place. 

And  seized  the  hand,  and  drowned  it  with  her  hair, 
And  bent  her  body  to  his  fierce  embrace, 

And  was  so  joyful  in  the  darkness  there. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  2$ 


II. 

GREAT  GOD  !  the  arms  wherein  that  maiden  fell 
Were  not  her  lover's  ;  I  am  her  lover  —  I, 
Who  sat  here  in  the  shadows  silently  — 

Silent  with  gladness,  for  I  thought,  O  hell ! 

I  thought  to  me  she  moved,  and  all  was  well. 
She  saw  me  not  yet  dimly  could  descry 
That  beautiful  hand  of  his  and  with  a  sigh 

Sank  on  his  treacherous,  damned  breast.     The  spell 

Of  the  Evil  One  was  on  me.     All  in  vain 

I  strove  to  speak  —  my  parched  lips  were  dumb. 

See  !  see  !  the  wan  and  whitening  window-pane  ! 
See,  in  the  night,  the  awful  morning  bloom ! 

Too  late  she  will  know  all !     God  !  send  thy  rain 
Of  death,  nor  let  the  sun  of  waking  come  h 


26  THE  NEW  DAY. 


III. 
"YEA,    COME  TO   ME   YE   SUFFERING!" 

YEA,  come  to  me  ye  suffering  !     To  all 
I  am  a  brother  now  !     JT  was  not  in  vain 
I  saw  our  Sorrowful  Sister's  face,  who  slain 

Yet  lives ;  whose  voice  when  she  doth  weep  and  call 

Is  silent.  When  she  weeps  ?  Nay,  nay  !  the  pall 
Is  on  her  tears  too  —  they  are  dead.  The  rain 
Is  molten-hot  dust-dry  from  her  dull  pain  :  — 

Like  ashes  from  the  burning  heavens  that  fall. 

I  know  the  world-wide,  lovely,  living  lie  ; 
I  know  the  truth  that  better  were  unknown. 

I  know  the  joyful  laugh  that  is  a  cry 

Torn  from   a  heart  whence   hope   and  faith  have 
flown, 

And  yet  beats  on,  and  will  not,  dare  not  die. 
I  know  the  anguish  without  word  or  moan. 


THE  NEW  DAY. 


IV. 
•'I    MET   A   TRAVELLER   ON   THE   ROAD.' 

I  MET  a  traveller  on  the  road, 

His  face  was  wrinkled,  wan,  and  sad  ; 

His  back  was  bent  beneath  a  load 

Too  big  for  one  whose  sinews  had 

Been  wrenched  by  labor  overmuch  : 

Or  was  he  withered  in  the  clutch 

Of  his  strong  soul  gone  sanely  mad  ! 

His  face  was  wan,  his  feet  were  weary, 

Yet  he  unresting  went  with  such 

A  strange,  still,  patient  mien  ;  a  look 

Set  forward  in  the  empty  air, 

As  he  were  reading  an  unseen  book. 

His  awful,  fixed  smile  did  tear 

My  soul  with  pity.     I  could  bear 

That  better  than  what  next  I  knew 

When,  sorrow-drawn,  I  came  more  near ; 

For  suddenly  I  seemed  to  hear 


28  THE  NEW  DAY. 

The  broken  echo  of  a  song 

Sung  in  the  sunlight,  far  away. 

His  lips  were  parted,  but  unmoved 

By  words.     He  sang  as  dreamers  do, 

And  not  as  if  he  heard  and  loved 

The  thing  he  sang.     It  was  not  sad  — 

But,  O  my  God,  that  memory  blot ! 

The  livelong  night,  the  livelong  day, 

It  comes  and  will  not  be  forgot  — 

That  traveller's  song,  serene  and  cheery  ! 

He  stood  beside  the  level  brook  — 

Nor  drank  the  water,  nor  bathed  his  brow, 

Nor  from  his  back  the  burden  shook. 

He  stood,  and  yet  he  did  not  rest ; 

His  hand  lay  dead  on  his  dead  breast ; 

His  eyes  climbed  up  in  aimless  quest, 

Then  close  did  to  that  mirror  bow  — 

And  looking  down  I  saw  in  place 

Of  his,  my  own  wan,  wrinkled  face  !    * 


THE  NEW  DAY.  29 


V. 

WRITTEN    ON    A    FLY-LEAF    OF    "SHAKE- 
SPEARE'S   SONNETS." 

WHEN  will  true  love  be  love  without  alloy  : 
Shine  greatly  free  from  sinful  circumstance  ! 
When  will  the  canker  of  unheavenly  chance 

Eat  not  the  bud  of  that  most  heavenly  joy! 

When  will  true  love  meet  love  not  as  a  coy 
Retreating  light  that  leads  a  deathful  dance, 
But  as  a  firm  fixed  fire  that  doth  enhance 

The  beauty  of  all  beauty  !     Will  the  employ 

Of  poets  ever  be  too  well  to  show 

That  mightiest  love  with  sharpest  pain  doth  writhe ; 
That  underneath  the  fair,  caressing  glove 

Hides  evermore  the  iron  hand  ;  and  though 

Love's  flower  alone  is  good,  if  we  would  prove 
Its  perfect  bloom,  our  breath  slays  like  a  scythe  ! 


30  THE  NEW  DAY. 


VI. 
"  AND   WERE   THAT   BEST  !  " 

AND  were  that  best,  Love,  dreamless,  endless  sleep  ! 

Gone  all  the  fervor  of  the  mortal  day  ; 

The  daylight  gone,  and  gone  the  starry  ray  ! 
And  were  that  best,  Love,  rest  serene  and  deep  ! 
Gone  labor  and  desire  ;  no  arduous  steep 

To  climb,  no  songs  to  sing,  no  prayers  to  pray, 

No  help  for  those  who  perish  by  the  way, 
No  laughter  'midst  our  tears,  no  tears  to  weep ! 
And  were  that  best,  Love,  sleep  with  no  sweet  dream, 

Nor  memory  of  any  thing  in  life  — 

Stark  death  that  neither  help  nor  hurt  can  know ! 
Oh,  rather,  Love,  the  sorrow-bringing  gleam, 

The  living  day's  long  agony  and  strife  ! 

Rather  strong  love  in  pain  —  the  waking  woe  ! 


THE  NEW  DAY.  31 


VII. 

"THERE  IS  NOTHING  NEW  UNDER  THE 

SUN." 

THERE  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun  ; 

There  is  no  new  hope  or  despair ; 
The  agony  just  begun 

Is  as  old  as  the  earth  and  the  air. 
My  secret  soul  of  bliss 

Is  one  with  the  singing  star's, 
And  the  ancient  mountains  miss 

No  hurt  that  my  being  mars. 

I  know  as  I  know  my  life, 

I  know  as  I  know  my  pain, 
That  there  is  no  lonely  strife, 

That  he  is  mad  who  would  gain 
A  separate  balm  for  his  woe, 

A  single  pity  and  cover  : 
The  one  great  God  I  know 

Hears  the  same  prayer  over  and  over. 


32  THE  NEW  DAY. 

I  know  it  because  at  the  portal 

Of  Heaven  I  bowed  and  cried, 
And  I  said,  "  Was  ever  a  mortal 

Thus  crowned  and  crucified  ! 
My  praise  thou  hast  made  my  blame  ; 

My  best  thou  hast  made  my  worst ; 
My  good  thou  hast  turned  to  shame  j 

My  drink  is  a  flaming  thirst." 

But  scarce  my  prayer  was  said 

Ere  from  that  place  I  turned ; 
I  trembled,  I  hung  my  head, 

My  cheek,  shame-litten,  burned  : 
For  there  where  I  bowed  down 

In  my  boastful  agony, 
I  thought  of  thy  cross  and  crown,  — 

O  Christ !   I  remembered  thee. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  33 


VIII. 
LOVE'S   CRUELTY. 

"  AND  this  then  is  thy  love,''  I  hear  thee  say, 

"  Now  spare  me,  if  them  lov'st  me,  this  last  woe !  " 

0  Love,  Love,  Love  !  gladly  would  I  do  so ; 
But  I  am  not  my  own  ;  I  must  obey 

My  Lord  ;  I  am  LOVE'S  slave  :  his  sway 
Is  cruel  as  the  grave.     When  he  says,  Lo  ! 

1  bid  thee  come  ;  I  come.     When  he  says,  Go  ! 
I  go.     When  he  says,  Slay ;  I  needs  must  slay. 
As  cruel  as  the  grave  ?     Yea,  crueller. 

Cruel  as  light  that  pours  its  stinging  flood 
Across  the  dark,  and  makes  an  anguished  stir 

Of  life.     Cruel  as  life  that  sends  through  blood 
Of  mortal,  the  immortal  pang  and  spur. 

Cruel  as  thy  remorseless  maidenhood. 

3 


INTERLUDE, 


THE  cloud  was  thick  that  hid  the  sun  from  sight 
And  over  all  a  sombre  roof  outspread, 
Making  the  day  dim  with  another  night  — 
Not  dark  like  that  which  passed,  but  oh !  more  dread, 
For  all  the  glory  that  had  gone  before 
And  all  the  promise  of  what  yet  should  be. 
Like  snow  at  night  the  wind-blown  hills  of  sand 
Shone  with  an  inward  light  far  down  the  land : 
Beneath  the  lowering  sky  black  was  the  sea 
Across  whose  waves  a  bird  came  flying  low  — 
Swift  on  the  wind  with  wing-beat  halt  and  slow  — 
From  out  the  dull  east  toward  the  foamy  shore. 
There  was  an  awful  waiting  in  the  earth 
As  if  a  mystery  greatened  to  its  birth  : 
Though  late  it  seemed,  the  day  was  just  begun 
When  lo  !  at  last,  the  many-colored  bow 
Stood  in  the  heavens  over  against  the  sun. 


PART    III, 


I. 

"THE    PALLID   WATCHER    OF   THE    EAST- 
ERN  SKIES." 

THE  pallid  watcher  of  the  eastern  skies 
Who  through  the  suffering  night  did  wait  forlorn, 

When  comes  the  first  faint  purple  of  the  morn 
Waiteth  no  longer.     To  his  happy  eyes 
The  promised  near  the  promise  following  flies, 

Nor  is  his  soul  with  sullen  anguish  torn, 

Nor  curseth  he  the  day  when  he  was  born. 
From  the  damp  ground  he  doth  awondering  rise, 
Firm  set  his  face  against  the  gathering  glory,  — 

To  be  so  sure  that  this  at  last  is  this, 
And  not  the  ancient,  bitter-lying  story. 

Now  he  doth  pray  for  strength  to  bear  the  bliss, 
While,  bending  o'er  the  mountain  red  and  hoary, 

The  morning  crowns  him  with  a  golden  kiss. 


42  THE   NEW  DAY. 


II. 
"I   WILL   BE   BRAVE   FOR   THEE." 

I  WILL  be  brave  for  thee,  dear  heart ;  for  thee 

My  boasted  bravery  forego.     I  will 

For  thee  be  wise  as  that  wise  king,  until 
That  wise  king's  fool  for  thy  sake  I  may  be. 
No  grievous  cost  in  anything  I  see 

That  brings  thee  bliss,  or  only  keeps  thee,  still, 

In  painless  peace.     So  Heaven  but  thy  cup  fill, 
Be  empty  mine  unto  eternity  ! 
Come  to  me,  Love,  and  let  me  touch  thy  face  ! 

Lean  to  me,  Love,  and  breathe  on  me  thy  breath  ! 
Fly  from  me,  Love,  to  some  far  hiding-place, 

If  thy  one  thought  of  me  or  hindereth 
Or  hurteth  thy  sweet  soul  —  then  grant  me  grace 

To  be  forgotten,  though  that  grace  be  death  ! 


THE  NEW  DAY.  43 


III. 

"  LOVE  ME  NOT,  LOVE,  FOR  THAT  I  FIRST 
LOVED   THEE." 

LOVE  me  not,  Love,  for  that  I  first  loved  thee, 
Nor  love  me,  Love,  for  thy  sweet  pity's  sake, 
In  knowledge  of  the  mortal  pain  and  ache 

Which  is  the  fruit  of  love's  blood-veined  tree. 

Let  others  for  my  love  give  love  to  me : 
From  other  souls  oh,  gladly  will  I  take, 
This  heart-dry  hunger-thirst  of  love  to  slake, 

What  seas  of  human  pity  there  may  be. 

Nay,  nay,  I  care  no  more  how  love  may  grow, 
So  that  I  hear  thee  answer  to  my  call ! 

Love  me  because  my  piteous  tears  do  flow, 
Or  that  my  love  for  thee  did  first  befall. 

Love  me  or  late  or  early,  fast  or  slow  : 

But  love  me,  Love,  for  love  is  one  and  all ! 


44  THE  NEW  DAY. 


IV. 

BODY  AND  SOUL, 
i. 

O  THOU  my  Love,  love  first  my  lonely  soul ! 

Then  will  this  too  unworthy  body  of  mine 

Be  loved  by  right  and  accident  divine. 
Forget  the  flesh,  that  the  pure  spirit's  goal 
May  be  the  spirit ;  let  that  stand  the  whole 

Of  the  thing  thou  lov'st  in  me.     So  will  the  shine 

Of  sharp  soul  striking  soul  make  fair  and  fine 
This  earthy  tenement.     Thou  shalt  extol 
The  inner,  that  the  outer  lovelier  seem. 

Remember  well  that  thy  true  love  doth  fear 
No  deadlier  foe  than  the  impassioned  dream 

Would   drive   thee   to   him,  and  would   hold   thee 

near  — 
Near  to  the  body,  not  the  soul  of  him. 

Love  first  my  soul  and  then  both  will   be  dear. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  45 


II. 


BUT,  Love,  for  me  thy  body  was  the  first. 

One  day  I  wandered  idly  through  the  town, 

Then  entered  a  cathedral's  silence  brown 
Which  sudden  thrilled  with  a  strange  heavenly  burst 
Of  light  and  music.     That  dazed  traveller  durst 

Do  nothing  now  but  worship  and  fall  down. 

He  thought  to  rest,  as  did  the  tired  clown 
Who  sank  in  longed-for  sleep,  but  there  immersed 
Found  restless  vision  on  vision  of  beauty  rare. 

Moved  by  thy  body's  outer  majesty 

I  entered  in  thy  silent,  sacred  shrine : 
Twas  then,  all  suddenly  and  unaware, 

Thou  didst  reveal,  O  maiden  Love  !  to  me, 
That  beautiful  singing  holy  soul  of  thine. 


46  THE  NEW  DAY. 


V. 

"  THY  LOVER,  LOVE,  WOULD    HAVE    SOME 
NOBLER   WAY." 

THY  lover,  Love,  would  have  some  nobler  way 
To  tell  his  love,  his  noble  love  to  tell, 
Than  in  these  rhymes  that  ring  like  silver  bell. 
Oh,  he  would  lead  an  army,  great  and  gay, 
From  conquering  to  conquer,  day  by  day ; 
And  when  the  walls  of  a  proud  citadel 
At  summons  of  his  guns  loud  echoing  fell,  — 
That  thunder  to  his  Love  should  murmuring  say  : 
Thee  only  do  I  love,  dear  Love  of  mine  ! 

And  while  men  cried  :   Behold  how  brave  a  fight ! 
She  should  read  well,  oh  well,  each  new  emprise  : 
This  to  her  lips,  this  to  my  lady's  eyes  ! 
And  though  the  world  were  conquered,  line  on  line, 
Still  would  his  love  be  speechless,  day  and  night. 


THE  NEW  D AV  47 


VI. 

"MY  LOVE  FOR  THEE  DOTH  MARCH  LIKE 
ARMED    MEN." 

MY  love  for  thee  doth  march  like  armed  men 

Against  a  queenly  city  they  would  take. 

Along  that  army's  front  the  banners  shake  ; 
Across  the  mountain  and  the  sun-smit  plain 
It  steadfast  sweeps  as  sweeps  the  steadfast  rain ; 

And  now  the  trumpet  makes  the  still  air  quake, 

And  now  the  thundering  cannon  doth  awake 
Echo  on  echo,  echoing  again. 
But,  lo !  the  conquest  higher  than  bard  had  sung : 

Instead  of  answering  cannon  comes  a  small 
White  flag ;  the  iron  gates  are  open  flung, 

And  flowers  along  the  invaders'  pathway  fall. 
The  city's  conquerors  feast  their  foes  among, 

And  their  brave  flags  are  trophies  on  her  wall. 


48  THE  NEW  DAY. 


VII. 
AT  THE  PLAY. 

(SALVINI.) 

I  SAW  Othello  crouch  across  the  stage 

With  quick,  hot  breaths,  arched  neck,  and  eyes  all 

white, 

And  fingers  curved  to  claws  before  my  sight ; 
I  heard  his  sob  and  scream  of  brutal  rage, 
When,  like  a  tiger  leaping  from  a  ledge 
Upon  his  prey,  quick  as  a  flash  of  light 
He  leaped  on  lago  :  then  in  shivering  fright 
I  saw  him  cower,  as  against  the  cage 
A  tiger  springs,  then  cowers  tremulous. 
So  sits  my  soul  apart,  —  as  I  do  here, 

Beholding    Shakespeare's     thought    before    me 

move,  — 

Calm  doth  my  soul  behold  my  passion  thus 
Beat  vainly  'gainst  expression.     Voice  nor  tear 
Can  tell  the  wild,  great  agony  of  my  love. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  49 


VIII. 
"WHAT  WOULD   I    SAVE   THEE   FROM?" 

WHAT  would  I  save  thee  from,  dear  heart,  dear  heart  ? 

Not  from  what  Heaven  may  send  thee  of  its  pain  ; 

Not  from  fierce  sunshine  or  the  scathing  rain  ; 
The  pang  of  pleasure  ;  passion's  wound  and  smart  ; 
Not  from  the  long  glad  agony  of  thine  art ; 

Nor  loss  of  faithful  friend,  nor  any  gain 

Of  growth  by  grief.     I  would  not  thee  restrain 
From  needful  death.     But  O,  thou  other  part 
Of  me  !  —  through  whom  the  whole  world  I  behold, 

As  through  the  blue  I  see  the  stars  above ! 
In  whom  the  world  I  find,  hid  fold  on  fold  ! 

Thee  would  I  save  from  this  —  nay,  do  not  move ! 
Fear  not,  it  may  not  flash,  the  air  is  cold  ; 

Save  thee  from  this  —  the  lightning  of  my  love. 


5O  THE  NEW  DAY. 


IX. 
"WHAT   WOULD    I   WIN   THEE   TO?' 

WHAT  would  I  win  thee  to  ?  dear  heart  and  true  ! 

A  thought  of  bliss,  a  thornless  life  ?     Oh  no  ! 

Through  weeping  pain,  Love,  I  would  let  thee  go  ; 
Through    weary    days,    and   widowed    nights ;    yea, 

through 
The  Valley  of  the  Shadow,  without  rue, 

If  thou  couldst  gain  the  goal,  Love,  even  so. 

I  would  not  win  thee  to  a  fruitful  woe  ; 
To  best  of  earth,  or  best  beyond  the  blue. 
And  most  of  all,  would  thy  true  lover  scorn 

To  win  thee  to  himself.     Thou  shalt  be  free 
To  have  or  hate  !     But  O,  my  golden  morn  ! 

Behold  thy  lover's  passionate  bravery  — 
Mighty,  unresting,  steadfast,  heaven-born  — 

To  win  thee  to  the  light,  which  is  —  to  thee  ! 


THE   NEW  DAY. 


X. 

LOVE'S  JEALOUSY. 

OF  other  men  I  know  no  jealousy, 

Nor  of  the  maid  who  holds  thee  close,  oh  close : 
But  of  the  June-red,  summer-scented  rose, 

And  of  the  orange-streaked  sunset  sky 

That  wins  the  soul  of  thee  through  thy  deep  eye ; 
And  of  the  breeze  by  thee  beloved,  that  goes 
O'er  thy  dear  hair  and  brow ;  the  song  that  flows 

Into  thy  heart  of  hearts,  where  it  may  die. 

I  would  I  were  one  moment  that  sweet  show 
Of  flower  ;  or  breeze  beloved  that  toucheth  all ; 
Or  sky  that  through  the  summer  eve  doth  burn. 

I  would  I  were  the  song  thou  lovest  so, 
At  sound  of  me  to  have  thine  eyelid  fall  : 
But  I  would  then  to  something  human  turn. 


52  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XI. 
LOVE'S  MONOTONE. 

THOU  art  so  used,  Love,  to  thine  own  bird's  song, 
Sung  to  thine  ear  in  love's  low  monotone, 
Sung  to  thee  only,  Love,  to  thee  alone 

Of  all  the  listening  world,  —  that  I  among 

My  doubts  find  this  the  leader  of  the  throng  : 
Haply  the  music  hath  accustomed  grown 
And  no  more  music  is  to  thee  ;  my  own 

Too  faithful  argument  works  its  own  wrong. 

I  have  no  art  of  silence,  Love  ;  I  sing 
Because  my  soul  is  joyful  in  thy  light, 

And  I  cannot  refuse  thee  any  thing. 

But  should  thy  bird  at  last  fall  silent  quite, 

Wouldst  thou  then  be  a  little  sorrowing  ? 
Think  not  of  me  but  of  thyself  to-night. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  55 


XIV. 

"ONCE   WHEN   WE  WALKED   WITHIN   A 
SUMMER   FIELD." 

ONCE  when  we  walked  within  a  summer  field 

I  plucked  the  flower  of  immortality, 

And  said,  "  Dear  Love  of  mine,  I  give  to  thee 
This  flower  of  flowers  of  all  the  round  year's  yield  !  " 
'Twas  then  thou  stood'st,  and  with  one   hand   didst 
shield 

Thy  sun-dazed  eyes,  and,  flinging  the  other  free, 

Spurned  from  thee  that  white  blossom  utterly. 
But,  Love  !  the  immortal  cannot  so  be  killed. 
The  generations  shall  behold  thee  stand 

Against  that  western  glow  in  grass  dew-wet  — 
Lord  of  my  life,  and  lady  of  the  land. 

Nor  maid  nor  lover  shall  the  world  forget, 
Nor  that  disdainful  wafture  of  thy  hand. 

Thou  scornful !  sun  and  flower  shall  find  thee  yet. 


56  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XV. 

SONG. 

I  LOVE  her  gentle  forehead, 

And  I  love  her  tender  hair ; 
I  love  her  cool,  white  arms, 

And  her  neck  where  it  is  bare. 

I  love  the  smell  of  her  garments  ; 

I  love  the  touch  of  her  hands  ; 
I  love  the  sky  above  her, 

And  the  very  ground  where  she  stands. 

I  love  her  doubting  and  anguish  ; 

I  love  the  love  she  withholds  j 
I  love  my  love  that  loveth  her, 

And  anew  her  being  moulds. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  57 


XVI. 
MUSIC. 

WHEN  on  that  blessed  sea 

Where  billow  on  billow  breaks ;  where   swift   waves 

follow 

Waves,  and  hollow  calls  to  hollow  ; 
Where  sea-birds  swirl  and  swing, 
And  winds  through  torn  shrouds  shrill  and  sing ; 
Where  night  is  night  without  a  shade ; 
Where  thy  soul  not  afraid, 
Though  all  alone  unlonely, 
Wanders  and  wavers,  wavers  wandering  :  — 
On  that  accursed  sea 
One  moment  only, 

Forget  one  moment,  Love,  thy  fierce  content ; 
Back  let  thy  soul  be  bent  — 
Think  back,  dear  Love,  O  Love,  think  back  to  me  ! 


58  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XVII. 
"  A  SONG  OF  THE  MAIDEN  MORN." 

A  SONG  of  the  maiden  morn, 
A  song  for  my  little  maid, 
Of  the  silver  sunlight  born  ! 

But  I  am  afraid,  afraid, 
When  I  come  my  maid  may  be 
Nothing,  there,  but  a  shade. 

But  oh,  her  shadow  is  more  to  me 
Than  the  shadowless  light  of  eternity ! 


THE  NEW  DAY.  59 


XVIII. 
WORDS  IN  ABSENCE. 

I  WOULD  that  my  words  were  as  my  fingers, 

So  that  my  Love  might  feel  them  move 
Slowly  over  her  brow,  as  lingers 

The  sunset  wind  o'er  the  world  of  its  love. 
I  would  that  my  words  were  as  the  beating 
Of  her  own  heart,  that  keeps  repeating 

My  name  through  the  livelong  day  and  the  night ; 
And  when  my  Love  her  lover  misses  — 

Longs  for  and  loves  in  the  dark  and  the  light  — 
I  would  that  my  words  were  as  my  kisses. 
I  would  that  my  words  her  life  might  fill, 

Be  to  her  earth,  and  air,  and  skies. 
I  would  that  my  words  were  hushed  and  still  — 

Lost  in  the  light  of  her  eyes. 


6o 


THE  NEW  DAY 


IX. 
"THERE  WAS   JOY   IN   ALL." 

THERE  was  joy  in  all,  but  I  might  not  win  it. 
I  looked  from  the  window  on  meadow  and  wood, 
On  fair  green  grass  that  the  sun  made  white  ; 
Beyond  the  river  the  mountain  stood,  — 

Blue  was  the  mountain,  the  river  was  bright : 
I  looked  on  the  land  and  it  was  not  good ; 
I  loved  not  the  land,  for  thou  wert  not  in  it. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  6 1 


XX. 

THISTLE-DOWN. 

FLY,  thistle-down,  fly 

From  my  lips  to  the  lips  that  I  love  ! 

Fly  through  the  clear  daylight : 

Flee  through  the  shadowy  night, 

Over  the  sea  and  the  land, 

Quick  as  the  lark, 

Through  twilight  and  dark, 

Through  lightning  and  thunder  ; 

Till  no  longer  asunder 

We  stand ; 

For  thy  touch  like  the  lips  of  her  lover, 

Moves  her  being  to  mine,  — 

We  are  one  in  a  swoon  divine ! 

Fly  thistle-down,  fly 

From  my  lips  to  the  lips  that  I  love  ! 


62  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XXI. 

"O    SWEET   WILD    ROSES    THAT   BUD    AND 
BLOW." 

O  SWEET  wild  roses  that  bud  and  blow 
Along  the  way  that  my  Love  may  go  ; 
O  moss-green  rocks  that  touch  her  dress, 
And  grass  that  her  dear  face  may  press  ; 

O  maple  tree  whose  brooding  shade 
For  her  a  summer  tent  has  made  ; 
O  golden-rod  and  brave  sun-flower 
That  flame  before  my  maiden's  bower ; 

O  butterfly  on  whose  light  wings 
The  golden  summer  sunshine  clings  j 
O  birds  that  flit  o'er  wheat  and  wall, 
And  from  cool  hollows  pipe  and  call ; 

O  falling  waters  whose  distant  roar 
Sounds  like  the  waves  upon  the  shore  ; 


THE  NEW  DAY.  63 

O  winds  that  down  the  valley  sweep, 
And  lightnings  from  the  clouds  that  leap ; 

O  skies  that  bend  above  the  hills, 
O  gentle  rains  and  babbling  rills, 
O  moon  and  sun  that  beam  and  burn  — 
Keep  safe  my  Love  till  I  return  ! 


64  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XXII. 
THE  RIVER. 

I  KNOW  thou  art  not  that  brown  mountain-side, 
Nor  the  pale  mist  that  lies  along  the  hills 
And  with  white  joy  the  deepening  valley  fills  ; 

Nor  yet  the  solemn  river  moving  wide 

Into  that  valley,  where  the  hills  abide 

But  whence  too  soon  the  joy,  on  noiseless  wheels, 
Shall  lingering  lift  and,  as  the  moonlight  steals 

From  out  the  heavens,  so  into  the  heavens  shall  glide. 

I  know  thou  art  not  that  gray  rock  that  looms 
Above  the  water,  fringed  with  scarlet  vine  ; 
Nor  flame  of  burning  meadow  ;  nor  the  sedge 
That  sways  and  trembles  at  the  river's  edge. 

But  through  all  these,  dear  heart,  to  me  there  comes 
Some  melancholy  absent  look  of  thine. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  65 


XXIII. 
THE  LOVER'S  LORD  AND  MASTER. 

1  PRAY  thee,  dear,  think  not  alone  of  me, 

But  think  sometimes  of  my  great  master,  LOVE  j 
His  faithful  slave  he  is  so  far  above 

That  for  his  sake  I  would  forgotten  be : 

Though  well  I  know  that  hidden  thus  from  thee 
Not  far  away  my  image  then  might  rove, 
And  his  sweet  countenance  in  thy  mind  would  move 

Ever  thy  soul  to  gentler  charity. 

So  when  thy  lover's  self  leaps  from  his  song, 
Thou  him  may  love  not  less  for  his  fair  Lord. 
But  that  thy  love  for  me  grow  never  small, 
(As  bow  long  bent  twangs  not  the  arrowed  cord, 

And  he  doth  lose  his  star  who  looks  too  long,) 
Sometimes,  dear  heart,  think  not  of  me  at  all. 
5 


66 


THE  NEW  DAY. 


XXIV. 
SONG. 

MY  love  grew  with  the  growing  night,  — 
And  my  love  dawned  with  the  new  daylight. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  6? 


XXV. 
"A  NIGHT  OF  STARS  AND  DREAMS." 

A  NIGHT  of  stars  and  dreams,  of  dreams  and  sleep  ; 

A  waking  into  another  empty  day  — 
•  But  not  unlovely  all,  for  then  I  say, 
"  To-morrow !  "   Through  the  hours  that  light   doth 

creep 
Higher  in  the  heavens,  as  down  the  heavenly  steep 

Sinks  the  slow  sun.     Another  evening  gray, 

Made  glorious  by  the  morn  that  comes  that  way ; 
Another  night,  and  then  To-day  doth  leap 
Upon  the  world  !    Oh  quick  the  moments  fly 

That  bring  that  one,  the  hand-maiden  and  queen 
Of  moments  all !     Swift  up  the  shaking  sky 

Rushes  the  sun  from  out  its  dolesome  den  ; 
And  then  the  sacred  time  doth  yearn  more  nigh ; 

A  long,  brief  waiting  in  the  dark  —  and  then  ! 


68  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XXVI. 
A   BIRTHDAY   SONG. 

I  THOUGHT  this  day  to  bring  to  thee 
A  flower  that  grows  on  the  red  rose  tree. 
I  searched  the  branches,  —  oh,  despair  ! 
Of  roses  every  branch  was  bare. 

I  thought  to  sing  thee  a  birthday  song 
As  wild  as  my  love,  as  deep  and  strong. 
The  song  took  wing  like  a  frightened  bird, 
And  its  music  my  maiden  never  heard. 

But,  Love  !  the  flower  and  the  song  divine 
One  day  of  the  year  shall  yet  be  thine  ; 
And  thou  shalt  be  glad  when  that  rose  I  bring, 
And  weep  for  joy  at  the  song  I  sing. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  69 


XXVII. 
"WHAT  CAN  LOVE  DO  FOR  THEE,  LOVE?" 

WHAT  can  love  do  for  thee,  Love  ? 

Can  it  make  the  green  fields  greener ; 

Bluer  the  skies,  and  bluer 

The  eyes  of  the  blue-eyed  flowers  ? 

Can  it  make  the  May-day  showers 

More  jvarm  and  sweet ;  serener 

The  heavens  after  the  rain  ? 

Can  it  make  the  true  things  truer  — 

The  sunset's  radiant  splendor 

More  exquisite  and  tender  — 

The  sure  things  more  sure  ? 

Can  it  take  the  pang  from  pain  ? 

(O  Love  !  remember  the  curtain 

Of  cloud  that  lifted  last  night 

And  showed  the  silver  light 

Of  a  star  !)  Can  it  make  more  certain 

The  heart  of  the  heart  of  all  — 


7O  THE  NEW  DAY. 

The  good  that  works  at  the  root  — 

The  singing  soul  of  love 

That  throbs  in  flower  and  fruit, 

In  man  and  earth  and  brute, 

In  hell,  and  heaven  above  ? 

Can  its  low  voice  musical 

Make  dear  the  day  and  the  night  ? 


THE  NEW  DAY 


XXVIII. 
FRANCESCA  AND  PAOLO. 

WITHIN  the  second  dolorous  circle  where 

The  lost  are  whirled,  lamenting  —  thou  and  I 
Stood,  Love,  to-day  with  Dante.     Silently 

We  looked  upon  the  perse  and  trembling  air : 

When  lo  !  from  out  that  darkness  of  despair 
Two  shadows  light  upon  the  wind  drew  nigh, 
So  strong  the  force  of  the  affectionate  cry : 

And  there  Francesca,  and  her  lover  there. 

These  when  we  saw,  the  wounds  whereat  they  bled, 
Their  love  which  was  not  with  their  bodies  slain  - 

These  when  we  saw,  great  were  the  tears  we  shed  : 
As,  Love,  for  thee  and  me  love's  tears  shall  rain  - 

The  mortal  agony,  the  nameless  dread  ; 

The  longing,  and  the  passion,  and  the  pain. 


72  THE  NEW  DAY 


XXIX. 
THE  UNKNOWN  WAY. 

Two  travellers  met  upon  a  plain 

Where  two  straight,  narrow  pathways  crossed  ; 

They  met  and,  with  a  still  surprise, 

They  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 

And  knew  that  never,  oh,  never  again ! 

Could  one  from  the  other  soul  be  lost. 

But  lo  !  these  narrow  pathways  lead 
Now  each  from  each  apart,  and  lo ! 
In  neither  pathway  can  they  go 
Together,  in  their  new,  strange  need. 

Far  off  the  purple  mountains  loom  — 
Vague  and  far-off,  and  fixed  as  fate  — 
Which  hide  from  sight  that  land  unknown 
Where,  ever,  like  a  carven  stone 
The  setting  sun  doth  stand  and  wait, 


THE  NEW  DAY.  73 

And  men  say  not,  "  Too  late  !  too  late  !  " 
And  sorrow  turns  to  a  golden  gloom. 

But  oh,  the  long  journey  all  unled 
By  track  of  traveller  o'er  the  plain  — 
The  stony  desert,  bleak  and  rude, 
The  bruised  feet  and  the  tired  brain  : 
And  oh,  the  double  solitude, 
And  oh,  the  danger  and  the  dread ! 


74  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XXX. 

THE    SOWER, 
i. 

A  SOWER  went  forth  to  sow, 

His  eyes  were  wild  with  woe  ; 

He  crushed  the  flowers  beneath  his  feet, 

Nor  smelt  the  perfume,  warm  and  sweet, 

That  prayed  for  pity  everywhere. 

He  came  to  a  field  that  was  harried 

By  iron,  and  to  heaven  laid  bare : 

He  shook  the  seed  that  he  carried 

O'er  that  brown  and  bladeless  place. 

He  shook  it,  as  God  shakes  hail 

Over  a  doomed  land, 

When  lightnings  interlace 

The  sky  and  the  earth,  and  his  wand 

Of  love  is  a  thunder-flail. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  ?$ 

Thus  did  that  Sower  sow : 
His  seed  was  human  blood, 
And  tears  of  women  and  men. 
And  I,  who  near  him  stood, 
Said :  When  the  crop  comes,  then 
There  will  be  sobbing  and  sighing, 
Weeping  and  wailing  and  crying, 
And  a  woe  that  is  worse  than  woe. 

ii. 

It  was  an  autumn  day 
When  next  I  went  that  way. 
And  what,  think  you,  did  I  see  ? 
What  was  it  that  I  heard  ? 
The  song  of  a  sweet-voiced  bird  ? 
Nay  —  but  the  songs  of  many, 
Thrilled  through  with  praising  prayer. 
Of  all  those  voices  not  any 
Were  sad  of  memory  : 
And  a  sea  of  sunlight  flowed, 
And  a  golden  harvest  glowed  ! 
On  my  face  I  fell  down  there  ; 


76  THE  NEW  DAY. 

I  hid  my  weeping  eyes, 
I  said  :  O  God,  thou  art  wise  ! 
And  I  thank  thee,  again  and  again, 
For  the  Sower  whose  name  is  Pain. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  77 


XXXI. 
"WHEN   THE   LAST   DOUBT   IS   DOUBTED." 

WHEN  the  last  doubt  is  doubted, 
The  last  black  shadow  flown  ; 
When  the  last  foe  is  routed, 

The  last  night  over  and  gone : 
Then,  Love,  oh  then !  there  will  be  rest  and  peace  : 
Sweet  peace  and  rest  that  never  thou  hast  known. 

When  the  hope  that  in  thee  moveth 

Is  born  and  brought  to  sight ; 
When  past  is  the  pain  that  proveth 

The  worth  of  thy  new  delight : 
Oh  then,  Love !  then  there  will  be  joy  and  peace  : 
Deep  peace  and  joy,  bright  morning  after  night. 


INTERLUDE. 


AS  melting  snow  leaves  bare  the  mountain-side 
In  spaces  that  grow  wider  and  more  wide, 
So  melted  from  the  sky  the  cloudy  vail 
That  hid  the  face  of  sun-rise.     Land  and  ledge 
And  waste  of  glittering  waters  sent  a  glare 
Back  to  the  smiting  sun.     The  trembling  air 
Lay,  sea  on  sea,  along  the  horizon's  edge  ; 
And  on  that  upper  ocean,  clear  as  glass, 
The  tall  ships  followed  with  deep-mirrored  sail 
Like  clouds  wind-moved  that  follow  and  that  pass  ; 
And  on  that  upper  ocean,  far  and  fair, 
Floated  the  islands  all  unseen  before. 
Green  grew  the  ocean  shaken  through  with  light, 
And  blue  the  heavens  flecked  with  plumy  white. 
6 


82  THE  NEW  DAY. 

Like  pennants  on  the  wind,  from  o'er  the  rocks 
The  birds  whirled  seaward  in  shrill-piping  flocks  : 

And  through  the  dawn,  as  through  the  shadowy  night, 
The  sound  of  waves  that  break  upon  the  shore  ! 


PART    IV. 


I. 

SONG. 

LOVE,  Love,  my  Love, 
The  best  things  are  the  truest ! 
When  the  earth  lies  shadowy  dark  below 

Oh  then  the  heavens  are  bluest ! 
Deep  the  blue  of  the  sky, 

And  sharp  the  shine  of  the  stars, 
And  oh,  more  bright  against  the  night 
The  Aurora's  crimson  bars  ! 


86  THE  NEW  DAY. 


THE  MIRROR. 

THAT  I  should  love  thee  seemeth  meet  and  wise, 

So  beautiful  thy  beauty  he  were  mad 

Who  in  thy  beauty  no  deep  pleasure  had ; 
Who  felt  not  the4  still  music  of  thine  eyes 
Fall  on  his  forehead,  as  the  evening  skies 

The  musi£  of  the  stars  feel  and  are  glad. 

But,  Love,  this  thought  doth  make  me  wondering 

sad  — 

Lost  in  sweet  pain  of  gentle  reveries  : 
That  thou  shouldst  love  me  is  not  wise  or  meet, 

For  like  thee,  Love,  I  am  not  beautiful. 
And  yet  I  think  that  haply  in  my  face 

Thou  findest  a  true  beauty  —  this  poor,  dull, 
Disfigured  mirror  dimly  may  repeat 

A  little  part  of  thy  most  heavenly  grace. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  87 


III. 
LIKENESS   IN   UNLIKENESS. 

WE  are  alike,  and  yet  —  oh  strange  and  sweet !  • 
Each  in  the  other  difference  discerns : 
So  the  torn  strands  the  maiden's  finger  turns 

Opposing  ways,  when  they  again  do  meet 

Clasp  each  in  each,  as  flame  clasps  into  heat : 
So  when  my  hand  on  my  cool  bosom  burns, 
Each  sense  is  lost  in  the  other.  So  two  urns 

Upon  a  shelf  the  self-same  lines  repeat ; 

But  various  color  gives  a  lovelier  grace, 
And  each  is  finer  for  its  complement. 

Thus,  Love,  it  was,  I  did  forget  thy  face 
As  deeper  into  thy  deep  soul  I  went ; 

Vague  in  my  mind  it  grew  till,  in  its  place, 
One  that  I  knew  not  from  my  own  was  sent. 


88 


THE  NEW  DAY. 


IV. 
SONG. 

NOT  from  the  whole  wide  world  I  chose  thee 
Sweetheart,  light  of  the  land  and  the  sea ! 

The  wide,  wide  world  could  not  inclose  thee, 
For  thou  art  the  whole  wide  world  to  me. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  89 


ALL   IN   ONE. 

ONCE  when  a  maiden  maidenly  went  by, 
Or  when  I  found  some  wonder  in  the  grass, 
Or  when  a  purple  sunset  slow  did  pass, 

Or  flaming  star  fell  silent  through  the  sky ; 

Once  when  I  heard  a  singing  ecstasy, 

Or  saw  the  moon's  face  in  the  river's  glass 
Then  I  remembered  that  for  me,  alas  ! 

This  beauty  must  for  ever  and  ever  die. 

But  now  I  may  thus  sorrow  never  more  ; 

From  fleeting  beauty  thou  hast  torn  the  pall, 

For  of  all  beauty,  Love,  thou  art  the  core, 
And  though  the  empty  shadow  fading  fall,  — 

Though  lesser  birds  lift  up  their  wings  and  soar, 
In  having  thee  alone,  Love,  I  have  all. 


90  THE  NEW  DAY. 


VI. 

"I  COUNT  MY  TIME  BY  TIMES  THAT  I 
MEET  THEE." 

1  COUNT  my  time  by  times  that  I  meet  thee  ; 

These  are  my  yesterdays,  my  morrows,  noons 

And    nights  j    these   my   old   moons   and  my  new 

moons. 

Slow  fly  the  hours,  fast  the  hours  flee, 
If  thou  art  far  from  or  art  near  to  me  : 

If  thou  art  far,  the  birds'  tunes  are  no  tunes  ; 

If  thou  art  near,  the  wintry  days  are  Junes,  — 
Darkness  is  light,  and  sorrow  cannot  be. 
Thou  art  my  dream  come  true,  and  thou  my  dream, 

The  air  I  breathe,  the  world  wherein  I  dwell ; 

My  journey's  end  thou  art,  and  thou  the  way ; 
Thou  art  what  I  would  be,  yet  only  seem  ; 

Thou  art  my  heaven  and  thou  art  my  hell ; 
Thou  art  my  ever-living  judgment  day. 


THE  NEW  DAY. 


VII. 
SONG. 

YEARS  have  flown  since  I  knew  thee  first, 
And  I  know  thee  as  water  is  known  of  thirst : 
Yet  I  knew  thee  of  old  at  the  first  sweet  sight, 
And  thou  art  strange  to. me,  Love,  to-night. 


92  THE  NEW  DAY. 


VIII. 
THE  SEASONS. 

O   STRANGE    Spring   days,  when   from   the   shivering 

ground 

Love  riseth,  wakening  from  his  dreamful  swound 
And,  frightened,  in  the  stream  his  face  hath  found  ! 

O  Summer  days,  when  Love  hath  grown  apace, 

And  feareth  not  to  look  upon  Love's  face, 

And  lightnings  burn  where  earth  and  sky  embrace  ! 

O  Autumn,  when  the  winds  are  dank  and  dread, 
How  brave  above  the  dying  and  the  dead 
The  conqueror,  Love,  uplifts  his  banner  red  ! 

O  Winter,  when  the  earth  lies  white  and  chill ! 
Now  only  hath  strong  Love  his  perfect  will 
Whom  heat,  nor  cold,  nor  death  can  bind  or  kill. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  93 


IX. 
SUMMER'S   RAIN   AND   WINTER'S   SNOW." 

SUMMER'S  rain  and  winter's  snow 
With  the  seasons  come  and  go  ; 

Shine  and  shower ; 
Tender  bud  and  perfect  flower ; 
Silver  blossom,  golden  fruit ; 

Song  and  lute, 

With  their  inward  sound  of  pain  : 
Winter's  snow  and  summer's  rain  ; 

Frost  and  fire  ; 

Joy  beyond  the  heart's  desire,  — 
And  our  June  comes  round  again. 


94  THE  NEW  DAY. 


X. 

THE  VIOLIN. 

BEFORE  the  listening  world  here  bold  I  stand, 

The  hot  air  quivers  with  my  passionate  play ; 

I  hear  their  clappings,  and  their  feet  alway 
Follow  with  storm  some  passage  glad  or  grand  : 
And  now  they  fall  to  weeping  at  my  hand, 

And  now  they  hear  the  trump  of  judgment  day, 

And  now  one  white  small  note  to  heaven  doth  stray 
And  fluttering  fall  upon  the  golden  sand. 
But  like  the  murmur  of  the  distant  sea 

Their  loud  applause,  and  far,  oh,  far  and  weak 
Soundeth  my  own  strong  music  unto  me  — 

Far  from  the  soul  of  music  that  doth  speak 
In  wordless  wail  and  joyful  agony 

From  this  dear  thing  I  press  against  my  cheek. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  95 


XL 
"MY   SONGS   ARE   ALL   OF   THEE." 

MY  songs  are  all  of  thee,  what  though  I  sing 
Of  morning  when  the  stars  are  yet  in  sight, 
Of  evening,  or  the  melancholy  night, 

Of  birds  that  o'er  the  reddening  waters  wing  ; 

Of  song,  of  fire,  of  winds,  or  mists  that  cling 
To  mountain-tops,  of  winter  all  in  white, 
Of  rivers  that  toward  ocean  take  their  flight, 

Of  summer  when  the  rose  is  blossoming. 

I  think  no  thought  that  is  not  thine,  no  breath 
Of  life  I  breathe  beyond  thy  sanctity ; 

Thou  art  the  voice  that  silence  uttereth, 

And  of  all  sound  thou  art  the  sense.     Of  thee 

Is  my  song's  music,  and  what  my  song  saith 

Is  but  the  beat  of  thy  heart,  throbbed  through  me. 


96  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XII. 
WEAL   AND   WOE. 

O  HIGHEST,  strongest,  sweetest  woman-soul ! 

Thou  boldest  in  the  compass  of  thy  grace 

All  the  strange  fate  and  passion  of  thy  race  ; 
Of  the  old,  primal  curse  thou  knowest  the  whole : 
Thine  eyes,  too  wise,  are  heavy  with  the  dole, 

The  doubt,  the  dread  of  all  this  human  maze ; 

Thou  in  the  virgin  morning  of  thy  days 
Hast  felt  the  bitter  waters  o'er  thee  roll. 
Yet  thou  knowest,  too,  the  terrible  delight, 

The  still  content,  the  solemn  ecstasy ; 

Whatever  sharp,  sweet  bliss  thy  kind  may  know. 
Thy  spirit  is  deep  for  pleasure  as  for  woe  — 

Deep  as  the  rich,  dark-caverned,  awful  sea 
That  the  keen-winded,  glimmering  dawn  makes  white. 


THE  NEW  DAY. 


97 


XIII. 

"OH,  LOVE  IS  NOT  A' SUMMER  MOOD." 
i. 

OH,  LOVE  is  not  a  summer  mood, 
Nor  flying  phantom  of  the  brain, 

Nor  youthful  fever  of  the  blood, 

Nor  dream,  nor  fate,  nor  circumstance. 
Love  is  not  born  of  blinded  chance, 
Nor  bred  in  simple  ignorance. 

II. 

But  love  hath  winter  in  her  blood, 

And  love  is  fruit  of  holy  pain, 
And  perfect  flower  of  maidenhood. 

True  love  is  steadfast  as  the  skies. 
And  once  alight  she  never  flies ; 
And  love  is  strong,  and  still,  and  wise. 
7 


98  THE  NEW  DAY. 


XIV. 

k'LOVE  IS  NOT  BOND   TO  ANY  MAN." 
I. 

LOVE  is  not  bond  to  any  man, 
Nor  slave  of  woman,  howso  fair. 

Love  knows  no  architect  or  plan  : 

She  is  a  lawless  wanderer, 
She  hath  no  master  over  her, 
And  worships  not  her  worshipper. 

IT. 

But  though  she  knoweth  law  nor  plan  — 
Though  she  is  free  as  light  and  air  — 

Love  was  a  slave  since  time  began. 

Lo,  now,  behold  a  wondrous  thing  : 
Love  may  be  led  by  silken  string, 
Yet  from  stone  walls  she  taketh  wing. 


THE  NEW  DAY.  99 

XV. 
SONG. 

HE  knows  not  the  path  of  duty 
Who  says  that  the  way  is  sweet ; 

But  he  who  is  blind  to  the  beauty, 
And  finds  but  thorns  for  his  feet. 

He  alone  is  the  perfect  giver 

Who  swears  that  his  gift  is  naught ; 

And  he  is  the  sure  receiver 

Who  gains  what  he  never  sought. 

Against  the  darkness  outer 

God's  light  his  likeness  takes, 
And  he  from  the  mighty  doubter 

The  great  believer  makes. 

Like  the  pale,  cold  moon  above  her 
With  its  heart  of  the  heart  of  fire, 

My  Love  is  the  one  true  lover, 
And  hers  is  the  soul  of  desire. 


AFTER-SONG. 


THE  NEW  DAY, 


103 


AFTER-SONG. 

THROUGH  love  to  light !    Oh  wonderful  the  way 
That  leads  from  darkness  to  the  perfect  day ! 
From  darkness  and  from  dolor  of  the  night 
To  morning  that  comes  singing  o'er  the  sea. 
Through  love  to  light !     Through  light,   O  God,   to 

thee, 
Who  art  the  love  of  love,  the  eternal  light  of  light ! 


CONTENTS. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

PRELUDE    ......        .        .        .-•''.'       .  7 

PART    I. 

I.  AFTER  THE  ITALIAN n 

II.  A  RIDDLE  OF  LOVERS. 

I.  "  There  lived  a  lady  who  was  lovelier  "   .  'la 

II.  "  But  of  my  lady's  lovers  there  were  two  "  .  13 

III.  "A  DUN  BLEAK  STRETCH  THAT  SLANTS  TO  THE 

SALT  SEA'S  GRAY  " 14 

IV.  LOVE  IN  WONDER      .        .- .      .        .        .        .  15 
V.  LOVE  GROWN  BOLD       ...        .        .        .  16 

INTERLUDE     . 19 

PART    II. 

I.  WORDS  WITHOUT  SONG        .        .       .       .       .  23 
II.  THE  DARK  ROOM. 

I.  "  A  maiden  sought  her  love  in  a  dark  room  "  .  24 
II.  "  Great  God  !  the  arms  wherein  that  maiden 

fell" 25 

III.  "  YEA,  COME  TO  ME  YE  SUFFERING  "  .        .        .26 

IV.  "  I  MET  A  TRAVELLER  ON  THE  ROAD  "  .        .  27 


110  CONTENTS. 

V.  WRITTEN  ON  A  FLY-LEAF  OF  "SHAKESPEARE'S 

SONNETS  " .29 

VI.  "  AND  WERE  THAT  BEST  ! "       .        .        .       .  30 

VII.  "THERE  is  NOTHING  NEW  UNDER  THE  SUN"  .  31 

VIII.  LOVE'S  CRUELTY        .     .   .    ...     .  .        .  33 

INTERLUDE        .        ...        .        .     .   .        .        .37 

PART    III. 

I.  "THE     PALLID    WATCHER    OF    THE    EASTERN 

SKIES"        .        .        .               .        .        .  41 

II.  "I  WILL  BE  BRAVE  FOR  THEE".        i       „       .  42 

III.  "  LOVE  ME  NOT,  LOVE,  FOR  THAT  I  FIRST  LOVED 

THEE  " 43 

IV.  BODY  AND  SOUL. 

I.  "  O  thou  my  Love,  love  first  my  lonely  soul !  "  44 

II.  "  But,  Love,  for  me  thy  body  was  the  first."  45 

V.  "  THY  LOVER,  LOVE,  WOULD  HAVE  SOME  NOBLER 

WAY" 46 

VI.  "  MY  LOVE  FOR  THEE  DOTH  MARCH  LIKE  ARMED 

MEN"         .......  47 

VII.  AT  THE  PLAY 48 

VIII.  "  WHAT  WOULD  I  SAVE  THEE  FROM  ?  "  .        .  49 

IX.  "  WHAT  WOULD  I  WIN  THEE  TO  ? "    .        .        .  50 

X.  LOVE'S  JEALOUSY        .        .        .        ...        .  51 


CONTENTS.  I  I  I 

XI.  LOVE'S  MONOTONE         .        .       .        .  .52 

XII. •"  ONCE  ONLY"  .       .       ...       .        .  53 

XIII.  DENIAL  .        .       .       .       ,       .       .        .        .54 

XIV.  "  ONCE  WHEN  WE  WALKED  WITHIN  A  SUMMER 

FIELD"       ...       .       .       .  •-  .  55 

XV.  SONG       .        ;       .        .        .        .        .        .        .  56 

XVI.  Music  .        .        .       v       ,        .   '    .        ,'      >  57 

XVII.  "A  SONG  OF  THE  MAIDEN  MORN"    ...        .  58 

XVIII.  WORDS  IN  ABSENCE 59 

XIX.  "THERE  WAS  JOY  IN  ALL".                              .  60 

XX.  THISTLE-DOWN  . 61 

XXI.  "  O  SWEET  WILD  ROSES  THAT  BUD  AND  BLOW  !  "  62 

XXII.  THE  RIVER    .        . 64 

XXIII.  THE  LOVER'S  LORD  AND  MASTER    ...  65 

XXIV.  SONG 66 

XXV.  "  A  NIGHT  OF  STARS  AND  DREAMS  "      .        .  67 

XXVI.  A  BIRTHDAY  SONG 68 

XXVII.  "  WHAT  CAN  I*>VE  DO  FOR  THEE,  LOVE  ? "  .  69 

XXVIII.  FRANCESCA  AND  PAOLO 71 

XXIX.  THE  UNKNOWN  WTAY 72 

XXX.  THE  SOWER 74 

XXXI    "  WHEN  THE  LAST  DOUBT  is  DOUBTED  "       .  77 

INTERLUDE                                                                            .  81 


I  I  2  CONTENTS, 

PART   IV. 

I.  SONG 85 

II.  THE  MIRROR         .        .        .        .        .    •    ,^_  .    86 

III.  LIKENESS  IN  UNLIKENESS     .   t       ...        .        87 

IV.  SONG       .        .        .*'     .    *  '.        .      *      .        .88 
V.  ALL  IN  ONE       .        .        .       _.      V.     .        .        89 

VI.  "  I  COUNT  MY  TIME  BY  TIMES  THAT  I  MEET 

THEE"  " 90 

VII.  SONG  .       ...       .        .        .        .        .  91 

VIII.  THE  SEASONS 92 

IX.  "SUMMER'S  RAIN  AND  WINTER'S  SNOW"      .  93 

X.  THE  VIOLIN 94 

XI.  "  MY  SONGS  ARE  ALL  OF  THEE  "     .        .        .  95 

XII.  WEAL  AND  WOE   ......  96 

XIII.  "  OH,  LOVE  is  NOT  A  SUMMER  MOOD  "          .  97 

XIV.  "  LOVE  is  NOT  BOND  TO  ANY  MAN  "  .        .        .98 
XV.  SONG %     ....  99 

AFTER-SONG 103 


***  The   Decorations  of  this  volume  were  engraved    by  Mr 
Henry  Marsh. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED   BELOW 


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RECALL 


LIBRARY,   UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA,   DAVIS 

Book  Slip-5o?n-10,'68(J40i8s8)458 — -A-31 


IV?  594531 


Gilder,  R.W. 
The  new  day. 


PS1742 

N4 

1876 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


